


That One Time...

by WanderingSummerBreeze



Category: Outlander (TV) RPF
Genre: Multi, Threesome - F/F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-11
Updated: 2016-12-11
Packaged: 2018-09-07 20:15:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8814766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WanderingSummerBreeze/pseuds/WanderingSummerBreeze
Summary: This was a request from a good friend. Someone that needs a little umpf in their daily routine. I know I said I would never write a threesome with either S/C or J/C, but what can I say? Sometimes a girl can be swayed.So, if you have no desire to read either of our favourite couple engage in a delicious fantasy, stop now! Seriously. You’ve been warned and I don’t want to get any angry messages over this. It’s probably just a one-time thing…like that night in college…you know what I’m talking about.





	

I giggled so hard, dislodging the finger slowly stroking my side as I turned my head into the pillow.

“So, that’s a no, then?” I heard from beyond my encasement.

I pulled my head free from the suffocating feathers, and wiping the tears of laughter from my eyes, glared at husband.

My mouth opened, fully intending on coming up with a clear and sound argument, yet the only thing that seemed to fall out was, “Are you serious?”

Sam pushed the duvet off his hip and made to get out of the bed.

“No, don’t go,” I grabbed his arm. He could have easily pulled free. I knew that. But he didn’t. “I’m sorry. It’s just,” I suppressed a giggle as he turned to me, scowling, “it’s not what I expected you to say when I asked you one of your fantasies.”

“Well, it isn’t any longer,” he pulled free then, his naked ass making its way to the bathroom.

I flew myself back against the pillows, idly stroking my breast, as I watched the soft snow fall outside the window. The evening sky looked as bright as a summer’s day as the snow cast an ethereal glow around street lights.

Christmas break had started a week ago, and while we had snuck off to a warmer climate for a few days, we had altered our plans just as quickly, opting, instead, for the cobblestone streets of Paris – ah, Paris - surrounded my romance and history, and the first place we had ever spent a romantic weekend away. But winter had descended upon the city as well and we enjoyed the forced seclusion in our hotel room, electing for board games, Netflix and countless hours of passion.

Is was meant as silly joke. Erotic, perhaps. _What is your greatest fantasy?_ Not the same ‘ol, tie me up, do it in public, sort of thing. After all, we had done those. But more, what is something you have always wanted to try? Something that, maybe someone else would laugh at, but I had promised I wouldn’t.

But I did laugh.

I sighed heavily and pulled myself from the acres of down goodness, and, intent on following my husband, grabbed the long silk grey robe from the door frame.

 

****

I leaned against the door frame, casually playing with the un-tied silk belt, as Sam finished washing his face. He glanced at me in the mirror, scratched his stomach, just below his belly button, and walked to the toilet, lifting the seat with his foot and taking a stance.

Before a stream could steadily flow, I replaced his hand with mine, watching, in odd intimacy, as the urine flowed out of him and into the basin below. My eyes turned upward, toward him. He was watching me intently, trusting, or simply not caring, whether or not I was aiming him accurately.

I blushed, the heat rising in my cheek, and looked down once more. He slowed, then stopped. Empty. I was taken aback at my sadness of the moment ending so quick.

After a moment, lost to my own thoughts, he pulled me back, “Are you planning on doing something further with that, or can I have it back?”

Startled, I looked up, watched his eyes fall to his cock, semi-hard, still firmly in my grasp, muttered an _Oh_ and pulled away.

Sam flushed the toilet and began washing his hands.

“I’ve always wanted to be with a woman.”

Jesus. Was that me or him? No, it couldn’t be him. He _was_ with a woman. Always had been.

Shit. It was me.

I looked up slowly, vaguely realizing the water was still running from the faucet, but as my eyes traveled North up his body - sculpted calf, tight hip, and a penis that, half asleep moments before, suddenly throbbed with life as I furthered my gaze to his muscled chest, perked nipples, strong jaw, soft lips, until finally, I reached his eyes.

I saw, rather than heard his mouth say, “What?”

I could hear my heart race. This wasn’t scandalous. Many women had thought of it at one time or another. Wondered what it would be like. I had worked as a model most of my adult life and had made out with women, after having one too many, but had never gone all the way. And while I knew that my heart and ninety-five percent of my body was straight - dear God, his cock is weeping, I need to lick it – I still had that shaky five percent that could go either way.

Suddenly feeling a bit too exposed, which was utterly ridiculous, I pulled the robe into my body tightly. I coughed and matter-of-factly, stated, “I’ve always wanted to be with a woman. Just once. To know what it feels like. If it feels different when they,” not struggling for a word as much as it seemed, but pausing to find a more tactful one, finally giving up, “when they eat you out.”

 _Go down on you_ Shit. Thanks, brain, for coming up with that one a second too late.

Sam looked as though he was thinking. Not in the _I’m picturing it now_ sort of way. More, deep in thought, trying to figure out if he found the idea appealing. I know his dick did.

He must have come to the same conclusion as one side of his lip curved in a smile.  He shut the tap to the sink off and walked up to me. After a moment of silence, he pulled my hands, clutching my robe tightly to my body, free. They dropped to my side as he pulled the silk from my breasts.

I shivered as his large hands traveled up my body, resting on the side of each breast. Sam leaned into my ear, “You want to know if a woman’s tongue can go deeper inside you than I can?”

He wasn’t offended or jealous. He was turned on and letting me know that it was okay if I was as well.

“You want to feel her breasts against yours, grind against each other to completion?”

I sighed into him, my head rolling to the side, “Yesss…”

My hand found his cock, slick and hard and pushing itself into my belly. Sam eyes rolled back as his hands kneaded my breasts.

I dropped to my knees, taking him in my mouth. No. I could never give this up. Not his. I buried myself in his trimmed pubic hair, swallowing as much of him as I could. The first few months, I couldn’t take him all in. He was too large. But over the last two and a half years, I had managed to supress my gag reflex and take him down my throat.

I pulled free, licking the tip, swirling the pre-cum around before swallowing him again. He had come less than an hour ago, and perhaps only 2 hours before that. But Sam was always ready. Always. The thought would randomly come to mind, whether at work or the grocery store, and suddenly I would find myself clenching my thighs together, desperate for friction.

I pulled free and stood, his mouth swooping in and taking mine, our tongues dripping with saliva as he tasted himself on me. We were messy and wet and all the wonderfully disgusting things you should be with your partner.

I stroked him, firm and quick, as he held my head, breaking the kiss only to sob out in pleasure as he came hard against my belly. Semen, the colour blending in with my pale skin, shooting around my belly-button.

***

Sam’s POV

 

“Are you sure? I’m giving you a free pass” I asked.

Cait nodded and pulled me in for a quick kiss. “Yes. I want to experience this with you. I want you in the room. Just –“

“No touching,” I smiled. “Got it. She doesn’t touch me and I don’t touch her.”

“Are you okay with that?”

When Cait had first proclaimed her desire to be with a woman, I admit, there was a part of me that was hurt. I’m her husband. And she, my wife. And while we may do things in front of the cameras with others, I have never had a desire to be with anyone, save her, since we met.

But of course, I’m a man, and my feelings of unease gave way as the blood rushed South and flashes of flesh against flesh with tangled female limbs entranced me.

But now, I glanced down, the black trousers suffocating the beast within me, now I was trying to do my best to be level headed.

If this was her fantasy, I wanted her to have it.  I had suggested we find a suitable partner for her, together. But that I would keep my distance. Cait wanted nothing of the sort.

_“I want you there. Watching. I need you to be a part of this.”_

And while I was apprehensive at first, it wasn’t desire that finally had me agreeing to it. It was safety. I needed to know that my wife was safe. Not necessarily from anything physical. Just from herself. I feared, after the orgasm tremors settled and the sweat dried out, she would feel as though she had cheated. I didn’t want that. I wanted her to know that I was okay.

I did, however, stipulate that this would be a one-time thing. She had agreed wholeheartedly. Then, made sure to tell me that while I was there, I wasn’t to lay a hand on the other woman, or she on me.

I had no issue with that. The only woman I ever wanted was the one I had.

“Sam? Sam!”

“Sorry. Yes,” pulled from my fog, I kissed her lips, nibbling just the slightest bit on the lower one, before pulling away. “Yes. No touching.”

Caitriona turned to the mirror, her hands following her throat, “Are you sure tied back? We’re not too matchy-matchy?” she asked in gesture to my tied-back hair.

I laughed, coming up behind her to look at her beautiful form in the mirror. I stroked her neck, my fingers lingering on hers, at her pulse, “Nah. It shows your long neck. Perfect for the,” I let my fingers do the talking as I traveled down the low neckline. The dress, picked out by both of us the night before, was sexy as hell. Its plunges and cuts softened by it’s feminine lace and sparkle that glinted silver, matching my newly acquired grey Armani suit.

Her hand slapped mine, I laughed, watching her double check the bright red of her lips before straightening herself.

“Ready?” she asked.

I smoothed out the creases in my suit, grabbed the black silk tie, tucking the ends of it in my buttoned suit jacket and extended my elbow in invitation, which she graciously took.

“Ready.”

 

***

We sat in silence in the cab, hands folded together in a sign of solidarity. The cab sliced through the icy street, headed in the direction of the address I gave him.

We rolled to a stop outside _1 Rue Therese_ , the narrow alley barely large enough to fit the car. Cait lowered her window, peering up at the three-story building. No name branded the old stone, but I had been assured this was the address. I felt the hand resting in mine squeeze tightly in nervousness as I watched her face.

If she wanted to turn back. I would. Without a hesitant thought. But she wanted this. I knew that.

Cait turned back to me, smiled shyly and I nodded, paying the driver, and exited the car. I made my way round the other side, taking her hand as she allowed me to pull herself up. She weaved slightly, her Louboutin’s not quite suitable wear for the weather, but I held her tightly, headed toward the entrance.

***

The fee was no small amount. I had arranged for payment beforehand to steal away any crassness for the evening. We were handed masks as we walked through the narrow corridor, into the great room. Cait pulled the lace one over her head, masking her eyes in an excited giggle, earlier tension finally subsiding. I responded with fastening the black silk one behind my bun.

If I was honest, I was probably more nervous than she, but it was not my place to be. Not tonight.

We dined on a feast and pleasured our taste buds on an array of desserts, sipping _Deutz_ in Crystal flutes before finally gaining courage to acquaint ourselves further with the other clientele that had been eyeing us the entire evening.

Our conversational engagements led to a few raised eyebrows from myself to Cait, only to be replied with a courteous shake of the head.

_No. Not her._

I wasn’t certain of her type. We hadn’t discussed whether blonde, brunette or redhead. A quick scan of the room took any redheads out of contention. I only spotted one, and while an attractive face complimented her strong frame, the cigarette in her mouth was a turn off.

We danced slowly, seductively, in the darkened room. Images of people, some in twos, threes or more, and the occasional solo exhibitionist played in the corner of my eyes. I had felt a brush from a woman, and even men, on more than one occasion, fall across my backside, but Cait was quick to turn her seductive smile into one of fierceness, warning any and all that crossed our paths that _I_ was not the one on the menu tonight.

Showing the same own-ness of her to others was not required. That happened on instinct. The men seemed to stay away, content with looking. You’d think I peed a circle around her regularly. I suppose I did in a manner of speaking.

The air in the room was thick, sounds of sex and seduction blending in with the sultry sounds emitting from the ceiling speakers. I pulled Cait in close, my erection resting just above her pubic bone. The heels were enough to make her only an inch or two shorter than I.

I brushed back errant hairs from her cheeks and held her face close to mine, “You are the sexiest woman I have ever known.” She smiled and pulled me in for a kiss, playful and mischievous at first, but advancing to deep and needy.

The soft sighs from those near us pulled me back, but I never released my gaze from hers. But she did.

Caitriona’s eyes shifted past mine, her breath hitched and the grip on my body tightened. I followed her eyesight to the bar.  A dark-haired beauty with olive skin was smiling as she let go of a man’s hands. Her husband perhaps? She wished him luck, with a gleam in her eye, before picking up her drink and slowly sipping through the red straw.

The black dress she wore sparkled in the light as her breasts heaved with great distraction over the hem.

I turned back to Caitriona. Her eyes had been watching my reaction. I waited for hers. She nodded and without word, I took her hand, kissed it, my eyes never leaving hers, smiled and left her to the centre of the room.

I did my best to man up, as it were. I had been playing the evening like some form of theatrics, afraid of what I might actually do or feel if I pulled myself away from this suave character I was playing for the night.

I didn’t ask her name. I didn’t care. Her boyfriend, as I learned, and she had come here several times. He enjoyed both sexes, as did she. When her hand came to touch my chest, I took it, held it for a moment, out of kindness, then placed it back in her lap.

I explained what I wanted. A desire to take her back to our hotel room, and that it wasn’t me I was seeking her attention for. She looked intrigued, glanced toward Caitriona and smiled. _“Elle est belle, ta femme.”_

***

The elevators opened to our floor. I had procured a separate hotel from where we had been staying. This night was not to touch our normal life. A mere ten-minute cab ride away, hotel Maison Souquet was the perfect escape.

_“Put your hand on her leg,” I instructed. The cab pulled into the coloured lights of the city streets as our strangers’ hand pulled Cait’s coat aside, stroking her thigh. Strategically placed in the middle of the backseat, Cait’s head rolled back as the woman moved her hand up, sliding under the hem of her skirt, inching closer to her centre. Caitriona kissed me as her legs went slack, the woman finally making contact with her pussy._

_Cait lifted herself slightly off the seat, her hand coming up to pull on the lapel of my coat, tugging me in further, deeper into her lips._

_With a final soft kiss to ease our separation, I stroked Cait’s cheek as her hips moved in motion with the woman’s fingers._

_“Kiss her, my love.”_

_Cait moaned, then moved her head to the other side, facing the dark-haired beauty, and they both leaned in. A tender kiss at first, one gauging the other, before giving into the passion._

_I kept a wary eye on the driver, making sure his attention was face forward._

The room, rich in French blue tapestry, screamed of elegance and a hideaway of the Kings in a by-gone era.

Our _guest_ held loosely onto Cait’s hand as I turned the music on, soft Parisian sounds flowed through the room, and as I guided them to dance, their bodies found the music’s rhythm as well.

Cait smiled at me before wrapping her hands around our _guest’s_ shoulders as they began to sway, their bodies touching in fluid motion as they gave into the music.

I loosened my tie, stepping back. I could feel myself straining against my trousers already. I should have worn black, afraid any staining would show had I had a teenage-like accident.

I pulled the chilled champagne, ordered in advance, from the ice-bucket, pouring two glasses before handing them each one. Cait looked quizzically at my empty hand. I wasn’t drinking anymore this evening. My mind must be free of cloudiness and distraction.

With one hand still resting on each other’s thigh, they drank quickly, eager, I think, for the night to progress. I inhaled the aroma of the room. I could smell her. My beautiful Caitriona was wet beneath her dress. The tiny patch of hair there, must be soaked with dew.

The flutes abandoned on the end table, I stood behind Cait, placing her hands on our _guests_ backside. Our _guest_ wrapped her hands around Cait’s neck as they kissed, their bodies moving slowly, seductively, against one another as my body, pressed against Cait’s back, followed along for the ride.

Cait’s head fell back against mine as the woman began to lick her earlobe and travel further down her neck.

I backed up, pulling the silk scarf from round my neck, and stretching it tight, twining the ends in my hands.

“I want to see you both.”

The woman looked at me and I nodded. Her hands fell the Cait’s belt, undoing the slim leather and letting it fall to the floor before moving her hands to the back of Cait’s dress. Lowering the zipper slowly enough that I could hear each metal tooth break through the smooth music.  

The dress fell to the floor, leaving her naked in only her heels, rarely wearing undergarments, and the woman lowered her lips to Cait’s breasts, suckling the tight nipples. Cait moaned and held her new friends head to her as her own hands played with the woman’s large chest, still covered by thin material.

I moved from my spot a foot away, and came up behind Cait, my arms reaching above and over her head, hands still holding the scarf tightly as they came in between the two women. I looked into the woman’s eyes, clearly a direction to her, but whispered into Cait’s ear, “Tie her hands and take her to bed.”

The dark-haired woman smiled and, unravelling it from my hands, took the scarf.

“The bed, you beautiful woman,” she spoke, “your man demands it,” she added with a sultry grin as Cait smiled shyly at me.

I fell into the arm chair near the end of the bed, unbuttoning my fly to ease the strain.

“Put her hands above her head,” I instructed and watched as the scene played out before me.

Cait raised her arms above her head and slowly the scarf was tied around her wrists with enough of a tug and knot to make her jump a little. Her chest was heaving, her nipples glistening with the woman’s spit.

“Undress yourself. My wife wants to taste your breasts.”

The woman nodded, shimmying out of her dress before climbing back into bed. She straddled Cait and lowered her large breasts to Cait’s eager mouth.

I watched my wife in eerie fascination. I had felt that tongue cross over my nipples. Felt the little nibbles cause goosebumps across my flesh. Was it the same for this woman?

I heard the woman make some sort of purring sound as Cait licked and sucked, taking as much flesh into her mouth as she could. Her bound hands coming forward to touch the woman –

“Hands above, Caitriona.” I heard her moan in desperation, and smiled. “I want you to touch my wife. I want you to stroke her and lick her. I want you to tell me how she tastes.”

A nod and smile greeted me as the woman turned her attention back to the naked body in front of her. She bent forward, taking Cait’s mouth in hers, their sighs dying out in each others mouth. She pulled free, licking a trail of saliva down her throat until she reached Cait’s boobs again.

Gentle lapping sounds played games with my ears as my hand found its way to my cock. Still encased in shorts, it protruded against the open zipper of my trousers. I didn’t stroke it, nor release it. Just let my hand rest there.

Their bodies sunk into each other. Cait’s paleness only heightened by the olive skin that entangled hers. Her hips grinding up, desperate for contact as the woman’s hand came round her buttocks, urging her on.

The air reeked of sex and womanhood.

“Pull her hair free,” I was doing my best at maintaining control. Holding on. But watching Cait’s hair cascade around her shoulders when unfastened was breaking me.

“Taste her,” I instructed, my hand curling to a fist around my cock. “Lick her curls.”

The woman kissed and licked her way down Cait’s body, her hands roaming between her thighs, grazing her wetness. Cait reared up and pushed herself into the wandering hands. Finally, the woman, laying flat at the end of the bed, had come face to face with Cait’s wet patch.

I stood from the chair, shrugging off the jacket and ripping the tie from round my neck. Unbuttoning the shirt slowly, I rounded the bed to get a better view.

“Yes, lick the curls just above. Yes. Right there.”

I kicked off my shoes and felt my heart stop as her tongue swirled around the dark patch of curls that formed a perfect triangle.

“Now, lower. Yes,” she circled Cait’s opening with her tongue, “She likes it when you flatten your tongue, curling it just at the tip, like a cat lapping at milk.”

“Oh yes,” Cait screamed and gripped the headboard, scratching it as the woman did as I directed. Her hips rotated in time with the lapping.

I dropped my trousers and shorts to the floor, my cock finally free and purple with frustration. Cait’s head fell to the side, looking at me. Her face wanton and tears streaming down her face with pleasure.  

Cait looked down her body at the woman between her thighs, then flew her head back into the pillows once more, “Ugh, yes. I need…”

_Lick. Suck. Nibble._

I couldn’t tear my eyes from her face, her erotic features a drug I never wanted to wean myself from. I leaned in, stroking the soaked hair from her face.

“Oh God, I need…”

“What do you need, baby?” I asked, my forehead touching her heated flesh.

Her clasped hands came to my chest, “You.”

A direction not quite from me, and yet fully comprehended, the woman eased off the bed and I replaced her tongue with my cock.  I plunged into my wife with eagerness, pulling her body up to mine so that she wrapped her legs around my hips, her bound hands coming round my neck.

I bounced her atop me in fierce ownership. Claiming what was undeniably mine before tossing her back to the bed and pushing her knees up, reaching her most deepest of places. Cait scratched her nails down my chest as I continued my assault, eager to bring her over the abyss with me.

Her moans turned to cries of pleasure and just as her warm juices surrounded my cock, her quaking insides pulled me into the oblivion with her as I emptied myself deep inside her.

***

“Well,” I asked after a good hour of quiet solitude and reflection.

Cait looked up from my chest, blushed, and kissed my heart. “I’d say you know how to fulfill a girl’s fantasy, Mr. Heughan.”

“Hmm.” I grunted in my own unique way.

Silence once more, but perhaps mild curiosity compelled her to ask, “Where did she go?”

I shrugged, ready to let this evening rest, ghosts and all, chopping it up to simply _that one time…_

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
